


Survivors

by Gwynne



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-12
Updated: 2011-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:43:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwynne/pseuds/Gwynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What you do after you survive. And why.</p><p>Warning - this is dark and sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survivors

Anger burns out. Grief burns out. Even the desire for revenge dies down to sullen embers. All that’s left is a grim, bitter determination to follow the path to the end.

Two men stared at the parchments and flimsies spread across the rough-hewn table. The only light in the small cabin came from a single oil lamp hanging from a beam, and the coals in the fireplace. The boy crouching beside the fire reached to add another log from the small pile in the corner, then huddled into the warmth. He shivered every now and then, but not from cold.

Outside the footsteps of passing armsmen walking guard gave a feeling of security. False, as they all knew, and far too late.

Piotr broke the silence, “Louisa is … coping?”

Xav shrugged, “As well as she can. She has Padma with her, it’s all that’s kept her going.” He didn’t say where they were, and Piotr didn’t ask. They both knew the rules of this savage game.

“So, what’s the final tally?” Piotr’s voice sounded cracked and dry, as if he’d spoken little for days.

Xav shuffled the flimsies. He knew the answer without reading them, but it was easier to look at the cold words than at anyone in the room. “Apart from my own family –“ and they all knew the toll there – “There are a few other survivors. But not many.” He touched the list, “So few escaped – not Leonid and Cara, or… any of their family. Children and grandchildren, all gone.” Yuri’s brother had been his named heir, now he and all his descendants were gone, the end of that line. That on its own was a disaster for Barrayar – no legal heir for the Emperor meant trouble, always.

“Why did he do it? Just jealousy? What was he thinking to gain?” The words broke free as Piotr stared into the shadows. “I know he’s still grieving at losing Michael, but this – it’s insanity.”

After three barren, rancorous marriages and waiting more than six decades as Crown Prince, Yuri had finally become Emperor when Dorca died five years ago. He’d promptly sired an heir with his latest wife, a serving-maid who’d caught his eye. Nobody had dared object to his choice of bride – besides, no Vor family wanted to wed their daughter to the aging, increasingly erratic Emperor. Michael had been the perfect child - smart, handsome, brave, healthy, and probably not Yuri’s, but nobody dared even whisper that treasonous suspicion. For a few years everyone had dared to hope for the best.

Then there was the bad winter and the quaking fever. A hundred thousand dead was a tragedy. Little Crown Prince Michael dead was a disaster. Yuri had become worse than ever, wild in his grief and lashing out at everyone around him. The Empress had been found guilty of consorting with an armsman, on information everyone knew was a lie, and both of them died in the Main Square. Most Vor families found reasons to be out of the capital as much as possible, attracting Yuri’s attention could prove fatal.

Eventually Yuri’s brother and sisters had calmed him enough to make plans and discuss the future. Yuri had accepted that another heir was unlikely, and had finally named his brother Prince Leonid as his heir. Leonid had three strong sons and eleven grandchildren – it was the perfect guarantee that the line would go on. Xav had tactfully avoided the discussion, the price of his legitimate status had been his agreement to rank after his two half-brothers in the table of inheritance. Xav tried to stay out of the way as much as possible - Yuri had never forgiven Dorca for finally marrying Xav’s mother, legitimising his bastard son and giving him royal rank.

Piotr sighed, “So Leonid and all of his – all? Gods defend us – all of his family gone. What about the Princesses?”

“Christina is gone.” Yuri’s eldest sister, recently widowed, had moved into the Residence. She would have had no chance. “And her sons, and their wives and children, and the daughters who were still unmarried, and living with her.” Xav had to keep his voice cold, he couldn’t give way to emotions now or it would destroy him. “Two of her daughters still survive, he didn’t go after all the girls, they seem to mostly have been collateral damage, it was the sons he was trying for. The daughters married to Lords Vortaine and Vordrozda are alive, and safe, and will probably remain so.”

“And Alexandra?” Yuri’s youngest sister, her parents’ autumn-child. The eldest three had been born over a span of ten years, then there was a gap of more than a decade to their last, unexpected offspring.

“She still lives. But Dmitri is gone, and the children. All of them. She’s the only one who survived.”

Piotr glanced at the silent child by the fireplace. At least he had one left. To have lost all – that was past cruelty. “Was that … were there any others on his list?”

“Old Princess Catherin and both of her sons are gone. And all their families. Her younger daughter was visiting her mother, with her children – they’re all gone too. Just bad timing, it seems.” Catherin had been Yuri’s aunt, Dorca’s sister. “Her eldest daughter wasn’t on his list – she’s married to Count Vordarian. Yuri didn’t go after her or her children. He only sees sons as a threat, apparently. Children of the girls aren’t in the royal line, in his eyes. It’s odd, since Dorca’s main claim was through his mother.”

Xav had no good news to deliver, all he could do was get through this, “It’s fortunate that Ezar is here with you. Yuri went after the cadet line as well.” The junior Vobarra line was descended from Dorca’s younger brother. “They – none of them survive, as far as we know. Ezar has lost everyone – parents, brothers and sister, nieces and nephews. They didn’t have a chance.”

Piotr sighed, then leaned back in his chair, “So now all we can do is plan our next step. Did Louisa get word through yet?”

“The embassies are being watched, she’ll get word to the Betans when she can. They’ll help with the permits to get us past the jump gates, and safely into Beta. With her connections we’ll have no trouble when we get there. I can get a shuttle to take us, if we can get to Tanery Base. It looks like being a smaller group than I’d hoped, so few survived. You and Aral, Louisa and Padma, me, possibly Ezar – he won’t survive long if he stays on Barrayar. I’ve tried to contact Alexandra, she’s in danger, too, if she stays.”

Piotr nodded wearily, “What about our armsmen? And their families?”

“We’ll take any who want to come.”

Sounds of movement outside had both men on their feet in an instant. An armsman tapped a quick pattern on the door – it wasn’t safe to simply open the door, not with two jumpy, armed men inside – and ushered someone into the room.

“Alexandra! Thank the gods!” Xav had always been closest to his younger half-sister, he hugged her tightly, “I’m – I’m so sorry, your losses…”

She leaned into the embrace wearily for a moment, then stiffened and stepped back, “My losses, all our losses, are past bearing. Or discussing. All we can do now is go on and do what we must.” She nodded briskly at Piotr as he ushered her to a seat at the table, “So, what’s our plan?”

Xav sat wearily, “As soon as Louisa can get clearance from the Betans we’ll all head to Tanery Base. I can get us onto a shuttle. We’ll head for Beta and… and start fresh…” His voice faltered.

The Princess sat ramrod-straight and glared at both men, “We run? We let all this be for nothing?”

“Lexia, there’s nothing we can do. Except deliver ourselves up to him. He’s the emperor, we have no… there’s nobody who can… we have to just go. We have Aral and Padma to consider. We must survive for their sakes.”

“For their sakes, and for the sake of the blood of the dead, we have more to do than that.” Her voice was iron-cold. “For their sakes we need to make them safe. On Barrayar.”

Piotr leaned forward, “They’ll never be safe here. None of us will.”

“Not while Yuri lives.” She watched both men, “Not while he breathes. So… Yuri must stop breathing.”

“Treason…” It was hard to tell which man had breathed the word.

Xav grimaced, “We all want revenge, of course, but … Lexie, we can’t. We’re oath-bound. All we can do with honour is to go.”

“Damn you. Damn your honour,” her voice was dispassionate, “Damn it all. There was no honour in any of this, and none in him. To serve and obey someone who isn’t worthy of it carries no honour. To follow orders that should never have been given has no honour in it. Honour is what you carry inside, and Yuri has nothing inside but rage, and hate, and madness. If you want to honour our dead, and Barrayar, you’ll help to get rid of Yuri, and give Barrayar a better emperor.”

The room was silent for a moment.

Piotr shook his head, “We can’t. It’s… besides, who would we put in as emperor?”

Alexandra nodded at her brother, “Xav.”

Xav shook his head slowly, “No. There’s too many who still see me as Dorca’s bastard. And I don’t have a power base on Barrayar, I’ve spent so long off-planet being a diplomat. Diplomats don’t have the same status as soldiers. Besides, I’m too old, I’m three years older than Yuri. We’d need someone younger, we’ll need a longer, stable reign.”

“Then your grandson. Aral. He’s younger, there’s plenty of good years in him. And Piotr has the power base, he’s got the military on his side.”

They all swung round to look at Aral, crouched by the fire. Xav had noticed that Piotr rarely looked at the boy, and he spoke to him as if he was just one of his troops. But he never let the child out of his sight. And he’d made sure the boy had enough to eat, and a warm jacket.

Piotr gazed at his sole surviving child, then shook his head firmly, “No. No child of mine is going to be given that poisoned chalice. This much I can do for him – Aral will never be emperor. At least I can keep him safe from that.”

Young Aral watched them all, expressionless and still. He seemed to let out a deep breath at his father’s words.

Alexandra looked at the lists on the table, “Padma…he’s a baby. Who else survived? Ezar? Ezar. He’s a Vorbarra, he’s got the name. He’s a good age for this. And he’s military. And he has the support of both of you.”

Piotr glared at her, “He does?”

“It’s him or Aral. Choose now.” She was unrelenting.

Xav shook his head, “This counts for nothing. We can’t commit treason. Yuri has our oaths.”

“Barrayar has your oaths, too. Will you desert the Empire and its people? Now, when it needs you most? And who else is there to stop Yuri’s insanity? Do you think it will end if you all run away? Who will he start on next? He’s already ranting about the embassies, and the off-worlders. What if he wipes them out – what if he starts another war, one we can’t win. He could cause the end of the Empire. And what about all the other Barrayarans you leave behind? How many of your armsmen will survive his spite? And Vorkosigan district – can you abandon it, Piotr? After all those generations of Counts who fought to preserve it?” She knew just where to strike, knew all their weaknesses and fears. “What revenge will Yuri take on your District, if you run? He has no restraint, no care for anyone - half the Residence servants have been executed for non-existent crimes. Two of his armsmen killed themselves to avoid carrying out his orders to murder our families. There’s five young Vor lords chained in the Great Square right now, dying slowly, for reasons that only exist in Yuri’s head. They’re not the first. And all of our families... How many more have to die before you do your duty?”

The two men sat in silence, stunned at the flow of words. The Princess swung to her feet and headed to the door, opening it to mutter some orders at the waiting armsmen. Then she returned to her seat at the table, waiting with steely resolve. A simmering rage seemed to underlie all her movements, and every word. A rage kept in check and channelled to one purpose.

Breaking into the long silence, Ezar entered the room quietly. He glanced at the table, “Your highnesses…sir…?”

Alexandra nodded, “Ezar. You’re going to be the next Emperor of Barrayar. Sit down and I’ll explain what’s going to happen. First, you’re going to marry me. Then Xav and Piotr are going to declare for you. We’ll have Vordarian, Vordrozda, Vortaine, Vorpatril and Vorrutyer for sure. Most of the rest will hang back to see who’s likely to win, it’ll be Xav and Piotr’s job to swing as many as possible onto our side. As for the proles – this is a fight among Vor, the proles will follow their Counts. Piotr will swing many of them to our side, too, anyway.”

“Marry?” Ezar was a few steps behind.

She nodded, “Yes, it’ll strengthen your claim. And I’m still fertile, I should be able to give you at least one heir.”

Xav shook his head, “Lexie, this is shock talking. Jean-Marc is barely gone – you’ve only been a widow for a few days – you need time…”

She rounded on him, her control slipping for a moment, “We have no time. We have now. What will we gain by waiting?” She turned to face them all, her expression was terrible, “The only man I’ll ever love was hacked to pieces in front of me. My children died screaming. My youngest child was torn from my arms, his brains smashed out against the wall. The only reason I survived was that they decided to enjoy me before they killed me too. I lay there in my childrens’ blood… and then our armsmen broke into the room and…too late for all of them. Too late for anything. I’ll never love a man again, a year in widow’s weeds won’t change that. I’ll never love another man, I have no love left in me to give another child. But I’ll see Yuri die, and rejoice in it. And to do that I’ll marry Ezar, and give him a child. The rest is up to you men. Get it done.” She stood up and nearly staggered from weariness, “The rest is a matter for men. Plan your battles. I’ll work the Countesses and the rest of the women. I’ll get you at least ten more Counts in a week. We are Vor, we don’t run. We fight. For Barrayar.” She stood and moved to the fireplace, reaching out to softly stroke Aral’s hair, “Be grateful to your father, boy. He saved you from worse than you’ll ever know.”

Then she led the boy around the table, to kneel and swear allegiance to the new Emperor. Slowly, moving in shock, Piotr and Xav followed.

And two years later Yuri died screaming.


End file.
